Recovery
by LovingNinja
Summary: Gwen and Gerhardt are out and about in the world and ten months later, they have to step up to bat as each day challenges them to remain sober. GerhardtXOC and GwenXOC (eventually). A 28 Days fan fiction. Rated 16 plus!


**Here is a 28 Days fan fiction for everyone. I greatly enjoyed the film and I love Gerhardt to death. I also love that he has an ending scene with Gwen. (Alan Tudyk is my favorite American actor and I love Sandra Bullock 3 ). Anyhow, I don't own anything. Not the plot from the film 28 Days, not the characters from the film 28 Days, etc. I do own the plot of this fiction as well as the character Reginald.**

**Please Read and Review!**

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><p>"I've met someone."<p>

Sitting at Gwen's circular table within her cramped kitchen of her small apartment, being nearly ten months sober with plenty of struggles, she was fixing up her own cup of tea at the counter as her special guest sat with his cup in hand. Gerhardt had come to visit that afternoon, as he often did since that fateful day in the plant shop. He had a bright smile on his face as though he was telling a dirty secret, his cheeks flushed as he looked into his brew. Gwen, however, simply rose a brow as she turned to face him, back leaning against the counter as she stirred her tea, hair up in a messy ponytail to compliment her rolled up hoodie and sweatpants.

"Met someone?" she parroted. "Where?"

Smile twisting a bit, the blonde's eyes closed as if in remembrance as he shrugged a shoulder, head tilting to the side to meet it halfway in gesture, "At the library."

"And, by 'met' someone you mean?"

Gerhardt almost scoffed as his eyes flew open, he placed a hand over his heart and replied, "It means what it means, Gwen. It wasn't a hook up." He shifted in his seat, staring at his arms revealed by the rolled up sleeves of his jungle green jacket. "We haven't even gone on a date, yet."

Noticing the dejected look on his face as he took a sip of his tea, Gwen sighed, sitting down at the table across from him and gently grabbing hold of his free hand that lied in the center, stroking the knuckles apologetically, "I'm sorry, Gerhardt. It's just…we've got to watch each other's backs. I trust you to watch mine, and we need to take in consideration as to what Cornell said."

"It's a suggestion," he pouted. "Not a rule."

Again, Gwen sighed, a half-smile playing at her lips. "He's been a recovering addict longer than either of us," she stated sincerely, her grip on his palm tightening, "and I decided a long time ago that I wasn't going to ignore help or advice from anyone ever again. We both want to be happy, and I want you to be happy."

Biting the inside of his lip with furrowed brows, it was a moment before Gerhardt returned the grip, turning his hand so palms were meeting and his fingers caressing the underside of her wrist, "I want you to be happy, too."

Her grin growing full-throttle, she took a sip of her tea before asking, "How's Baron?"

Gerhardt huffed, "I tell you, Gwen, that dog does not like me sometimes. He never listens."

She giggled, "He's an animal; they never listen."

"When are you getting a pet?"

"I'll get one soon. My Golden Pothos is still kicking, so I'll have to look into it."

"Get a cat," he blurted, and that caused another chuckle to slip from Gwen's lips.

"So," she rolled her shoulders back, chin lifting up as she set her cup down, palm cradling the butt of her chin, "tell me about this 'someone'."

At that, Gerhardt's back snapped straight before he leaned in, both hands now capturing hers, "He's gorgeous, Gwen" He gestured around his ear, "He's got beautiful waves of hair, very dark. His eyes are large round orbs of steely gray. He's very tall," he gestured his arm length above his head. "He's got a bit of meat on him, but his body is so narrow." He inhaled dramatically, "Gwen, he's an angel."

"So, I see," she smirked. "I've never heard anyone describe another person in such a colorful way. So, what's his name?"

"Reggie. Well, Reginald, but he prefers Reggie."

"And, how did you begin with this 'meeting of'?"

Head lolling back, Gerhardt released a whine of joy, "It was romantic, like a movie." His hands shot up, eyes looking into the not so distant past, "We were in the audio-tape section, and I wasn't paying attention, because I was trying to find something to interest me, and the next thing I knew, our hands touched." Gwen tried not to release a giggle at her friend's enthusiasm. "He said, 'sorry'; I said, 'sorry'. Then, we just started talking. We have so much in common and he gave me his number."

"Exciting. Are you going to call him then?"

That was when Gerhardt fell a bit silent. He looked to Gwen with pitiful eyes, "I want to."

"But?"

The blonde slumped back in his seat, huffing, ""It's been so long since I've been laid."

"You and me both," Gwen snorted, patting his hand. "So, why is that an issue?"

"I'm…a little scared…" Gerhardt admitted with a sniffle. "What if I'm so physically needy I…take anything he gives to me?"

At this, Gwen's brows shot up, her back straightened as her voice sounded a bit shaky, "Gerhardt, is he a user?"

"No! Well, I don't….know…" he shook his head. "If he is though…I'm so…and we hit it off…and….before…" He heaved a sigh, "Back then, sex and drugs…I don't remember what 'normal' sex is like. Everything was a blur, but I know it felt so amazing… Look!" he shoved his arm across the table, "I'm getting goosepimples all over just remembering!"

"Oh, Gerhardt," Gwen cooed sympathetically. Her hands found themselves on his arm, rubbing at it gently in comfort and smoothing the bumps on his skin away.

Inhaling with a quivering breath, lips trembling, Gerhardt continued, "What if I can't…perform? Without the drugs, what if I'm useless? What if I'm boring?"

"You're not boring, Gerhardt. I love spending time with you. You make me laugh, you have an excellent sense of humor, and your way of thinking and speaking is different than the average bear."

The corners of the blonde's lips upturned for a split second before he frowned once more, "But, what if I'm boring on the date? I might be a good friend, but what about love partner?"

"First, everyone has that fear. _Everyone_. Nobody wants to be boring on a date," she reached up to grab his chin softly, looking into his eyes. "Second, you were interesting enough during the conversation that he gave you his number. Third, try not think too far ahead about it. Saying 'love partner' when you still don't know the guy that well…things might work out, but he may end up being a total jackass on the date. Remember, Gerhardt, one step at a time. One day at a time. You don't need to rush into this."

Gripping onto the hand that was holding his chin, there was a glossiness in his eyes as he smiled pathetically, a tear sliding down his cheek. "Thank you, Gwen. I'm…such a mess," he rubbed at his eye. "I'm so thankful I ran into you, again."

"Me, too," she grinned.

Wiping once more at his eyes, Gerhardt gave a chuckle, "Is there anyone new in your life?"

"No, but there's about to be."

There was a smirk on her face and at that the blonde jumped, "What do you mean?"

"Well, my sister…" Gwen trailed off, her smirk growing and Gerhardt's eyes lit up, hand flying up to his gaping mouth.

"A baby?!"

"Yes!"

"Oh, that's so wonderful!" the tears started to form once more as the blonde's other hand found itself over his heart. "Aunt Gwen! That's so perfect! I'm so happy! Congratulations!" He took hold of both of her hands, gripping tightly and making her giggle. "Babies are so precious."

Her lips curling sheepishly, Gwen nodded, "I know. It's crazy to think about it, but…a new life…"

"You know, I think you'd be a good mother."

At that, Gwen paused before snorting a laugh, "Yeah, right."

"I mean it, Gwen."

"Gerhardt, I wouldn't know anything about being a mom. My own mother wasn't much of a mother, I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I was suddenly handed a baby."

"Watch your sister. Learn from your sister," he patted her hand. "Ask for help, Gwen. Your little niece or nephew is going to need someone to look up to."

The woman shook her head, brows furrowed as she tried to shrug off a nasty feeling in her stomach, "I wouldn't necessarily be the greatest role model, y'know."

Huffing, Gerhardt grew rigid before slouching, his voice sounding rough as he spoke each word with a forceful meaning, "You changed. You changed for the better. You struggled. You are a good person. You fixed your mistakes. That is a good role model."

"You know what else makes a good role model?"

"What?"

"Someone who stays sober."

There was a long pause, as even though they just discussed this, it didn't mean that once it was mentioned and written off, it was completely done and over. It was going to be a constant fear for the rest of their lives. Gerhardt's thumb caressed her smooth flesh, and he sighed, "We'll get through it. We'll work on it together."

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><p>In the reflection of the mirror, he could see his brows furrowing and with that his frustration grew. As his fingers worked up his half-sleeve carmine button-up, they trembled fiercely. It took him more than a minute to successfully slip one of the copper pieces through the slit, and he could feel the sweat accumulating along his brow line and neck. It was pitiful, but halfway through he had to stop himself from throwing a fit. His cheeks were reddening with the anxiety and worry of all his insecurities, and then he was feeling it. He was feeling that urge, that need to make his heart stop racing for any reason aside from a good time. Looking at his hands as he leaned forwards against the bathroom counter, the knuckles white from gripping the edge, he could see them quivering, his wrists, and up the bones of his arms. His jaw was starting to feel it and he clenched his teeth hard as he inhaled deeply. He started to hum, shake his head and his eyes peeked to glance at his watch.<p>

"Shit," he grumbled. He was going to be late if he didn't hurry, but… Maybe he should call it off? No, Reggie should already be on his way over. _Should_. What if he wasn't? What if he wasn't going to show?

Gerhardt's stomach was churning, a cold sweat encasing him and he hurriedly slipped out of his shirt, throwing it on the floor and stomping to his bedroom. He'd need a new one at this point less he attend with pit-stains. That would be _most_ impressive.

Half throwing his drawer door open, he picked up the first shirt he saw and slammed the drawer shut, desk rattling and thudding against the wall, creating a small dent in the tomato paint. He undid the buttons, shirt now a nice citrine color. It seemed a bit calmer than the shade of red earlier, and somehow that set him at ease just a bit.

Should he call Gwen? They did say they would help each other when they found themselves at a loss, but he didn't want to bother her. She made him promise to give her a call if he felt overwhelmed by this whole date idea, but he knew he also needed to work on being independent. Think about it, how was he to explain to this man just how dependent he was on this, caring, woman he met in rehab? Perhaps he would be understanding, Reggie seemed like a kind-hearted soul. Though, there was never really telling. And, Gerhardt had to prepare his heart for that no matter how much he dreaded the thought.

However, he supposed that informing someone he was a recovering addict was far better than informing them that he was still an addict. That had to be a plus. But, would that make him even halfway decent dating material?

He shook his head for the umpteenth time that night, glowering as he buttoned the last button. His wall-clock chimed and he cursed under his breath once more. He scurried, frantically searching for his nice sneakers. He stubbed his toes into the corner of his bedpost, cursing once, twice more as he held his foot, leaning against his mattress with a sniffle in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair and he removed his glasses, wiping the tear stains off the lens with the bottom of his shirt. He rubbed at his eyes, inhaled and stood. He wasn't going to let this defeat him. He had to think back on what he went through with everyone at the rehab center. Daniel, Eddie, Bobbie Jean, Roshanda, Oliver, and Andrea. He had to do his best. There was so much Andrea could have done if she hadn't used that last time. He didn't blame her, because at this moment that was all he craved, but he couldn't let it win. Andrea showed him that he couldn't let it win over him. He had to beat it, for Andrea. For all those who got their "one more time".

Inhaling deeply, he replaced his glasses upon the bridge of his nose, stood and kneeled to fetch the sneakers under his bed. Grabbing them, he grabbed his keys upon his night desk, and he slipped out of his room, switching the light off and closing the door behind him. He had to beat this.

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><p><strong>To Be Continued...!<strong>

**Thanks for reading!**

**~LovingNinja~**


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